


Your eyes

by laviie



Category: sweet pool
Genre: Also RIP to me writing this in school with my screen luminosity turned off, Also sort of domestical, I love this game I'm so sad the fandom is pretty much dead, I'm writing lots of comfort lately??, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:33:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8940163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laviie/pseuds/laviie
Summary: When your mother first saw him, she told you she thought he looked so fragile, so thin, with that accentuated enthusiasm mothers always put in their speech. And now that you're looking at him for what feels like the first time, you almost crack a smile realizing how painfully right she was.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I need some comfort for these two, I swear. It's nothing too great, but I really hope you like it!! ♡

The light pouring inside your bedroom is of a quiet shade of orange, the growing trees outside in your garden watching over the small roads around your house. There is a warm kind of peace filling your chest, a only slight feeling of tension in the back of your neck that makes your back almost unnaturally straight. You glance down at the pile of half blank papers in your hands, an almost familiar, polite handwriting filling a few of the questions typed, and you analyze them carefully.  
\- This one is wrong.-, you open your mouth breaking the silence, feeling partially guilty for ruining that quiet atmosphere. The figure sitting near you jumps slightly, two big black eyes meet your finger where you're pointing at one particular question. - Ah.-, he sighs.  
You grab a dark colored pen and circle it, your graceless trait pressure sinking all the way to the page clipped together below. Youji's eyebrows knit together in a grave wrinkle in the middle of his forehead, from the way he's looking at what you're doing you could say he's depressing over the lost smoothness of his paper more than over the confusion he had regarding physic concepts, and it makes your cheeks loosen a bit. 

\- ... This is how you do it.-. You hand him the paper, and he scans it quickly. While in silence, you glance at his thin hands and the redness his fingertips dye into whenever the slightest nervousness gets to him. It somehow makes you concerned, the way he looks so fragile. - ... I still don't get it.-, he murmurs, maybe embarrassed. You lean in a bit closer, you swear you feel his body tense, but at the moment you tell yourself to focus on his homework more than on anything else. - What don't you understand?-, you ask in a tone you were hoping was going to put him at ease a bit. 

\- ... How is this force... the same as this? They're pulling against each other... I mean...-, - How does only one move and the other stays still if their force is equal?-. Youji raises his worrisome eyes to you, a big question mark all over his face, wondering if you two are close enough to finish each other's sentences. You get hit by a silent wave of embarrassment, and glance down again. - Yeah... That.-, he adds then, but you can tell it's more of a filler quote, to don't let awkwardness fall over you two. - It's the mass.-, you reply. He looks up at you again, you meet his eyes in silence. He isn't too good at eye contact, he glances down after a single second, pretending to read over the question. 

\- If the Earth moved back for every person that walks forward, you would notice it... But you don't, because it doesn't.-, you try explaining, your tongue getting stuck in the middle as you wonder if your teaching skills are good enough. Youji looks at you, a complicated expression freezing his features, his eyes trying to understand. - Oh.-, he looks back at his homework. - ... It makes sense.-. Your lips curl into an invisible smile as you watch him filling his blank questions with that usual, tidy handwriting. He hands the paper back to you moments later, you nod slightly noticing he got most of his answers right. - ... Good.-. 

He lets out a small, relieved sigh, you watch him from the corner of your eye and can almost put together the image of a timid smile. Too afraid you aren't going to see the same picture you painted in your mind if you turned your head to him, you stay still. But the second you see his face turning towards you, you look back at him. He doesn't look directly inside your eyes, his gaze floats around your neck and collarbones showing from the unbuttoned collar of your shirt. You follow the complex design of his hands wrapped loosely in his lap, he notices and alterns his eyes between his own hands and your face. 

You timidly make a move, your fingers dancing up his thigh to his bony wrists. The sweetness you're looking for in his eyes swallowing you, his fingers loosen to let yours intertwine with his easily. His hands are cold, that's the first thing you notice. They aren't soft, they actually feel sort of rough to the touch, but there's a strange kind of satisfaction in the simple act of holding them. He looks at you with an inexplicably tender expression, his eyes moving to your mouth as his dark eyelashes fluttered slowly closed. Your face moves in closer to his, careful not to scare him away with movements too fast, and your nose brushes against his colder, thinner one. His hold on your hand tightens, and you feel his warm breath escaping the small gap between his lips. You close your eyes, the softness of his mouth unexpected, as a warm feeling blinds you. 

 

He jumps straight the same second you do, the sound of your bedroom door opening gracelessly catching you off guard. The familiar figure of your smiling mother appears, she's holding a few grocery store bags in her tiny hands. Her face looks tired, but she's still smiling. She always is.   
\- Oh, I didn't know you were still doing homework. Sorry for interrupting.-, she apologizes, you know she means it by the tone of her voice. - Please, don't apologize.-, you comfort her, you hand nonchalantly reaching back to the papers in your lap as to represent you were actually still doing homework.   
She smiles and tilts her head gently, and looks down at her bags. - ... Youji, do you mind joining us for dinner? I bought some nice food to prepare something delicious.-. You glance at Youji, silently hoping he was going to stay. - ... I sure will. Thank you, Mrs. Shironuma.-. She smiled an nodded, walking outside the room to the kitchen. You let out a small relieved sigh, and glance towards Youji, realizing he also was looking at you. You look at each other in silence for a couple of eternal seconds, and you swear you see his mouth curve into a small smile. You slowly get up from the bed to go open the window, but something pulls you back. You turn around and meet Youji's eyes, looking confused but determined at the same moment. He looks at you intently, and you turn around and gently cup his elbow, helping him up.

His thin body fragile under your palms, he rests his cheeks against your collarbones, and you feel his irregular breath on your skin. You stoke his hair slightly with one hand, the other rested behind his waist, and your heart feels heavy when you think of the health problems this boy is going through. You silently pray he's going to be okay.   
An uneasy feeling bubbling inside your stomach, you stop thinking about everything and hold him a bit closer. With your heat passing onto him, his cold hands and nose slowly warm up and you feel relieved somehow. - Come.-, you murmur. Everything's too quiet for you to talk out loud.   
He looks up at you, question reflecting clearly in his eyes, and you lead him to the small garden outside your window. It's late in the afternoon, but the sun hasn't set yet and the sky is of a wild shade of red, a few thin white clouds striping the horizon, blurring along with the dark silhouettes of the city. You sit down in the sun against your bedroom's outside wall, the complicated pattern or tree branches painting poetic shadows on you, and Youji imitates you, sitting next to you.

The good thing about him is, you think, you never really have to talk when you're together. There's just no need to. You understand each other in your silences.

You look at him and you know that same second in your heart something's happening. With his eyes red from the sun's reflection and his pale skin dyed gold, your hand moves up to his cheek and cups it gently. He rests timidly against you, his dark hair falling delicately at the sides of his face. You smile.

You don't know it, but you're smiling.

He moves his hands up to your upper arms and holds onto your skin gently, his eyes look at you as if they're trying to tell you something. And you know just what they're saying. You watch captivated his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, a sense of poetry filling the back of your brain.

You remember when your mother first saw him, she told you she thought he looked so fragile, so thin, with that accentuated enthusiasm mothers always put in their speech. And now that you're looking at him for what feels like the first time, you almost crack a smile realizing how painfully right she was. The red light of the sunset is slowly fading, you realize it by watching his pale skin change color from a bright gold to a pale violet. You raise your eyes to the sky, that has completely faded under big dark clouds.  
A small drop of water hits your cheekbone, Youji's eyes narrow slightly and you look back at him with just as much surprise. Both of you look up, drop after drop hastily falling, and you hurry up and drag Youji by his wrist back inside, fast enough for none of you to get wet.

You look outside from the big window in your bedroom how in only a few seconds the greatest downpour you have ever seen started, and how it give no sign of ending anytime soon. You sit back on the bed, Youji next to you, and look for his hand by his thigh. You hold it gently as you don't turn your head to look at him, and you feel him holding you back with a timid determination. The light weight of his head appears on your shoulder, and you let out a happy sigh. You stay like that for what feels like forever, time froze completely around you but your core is warm.

You hear your mother's footsteps only a little later, Youji composes quickly and collects his homework paper that's all over the place, with you pretending to do something with your notebook the second she walks in. - Boys, dinner is ready if you'd like to eat.-, she smiles tenderly, and Youji nods, thanking her timidly. You look at him and his shy profile, a small smile rising upon your face. Your mother's face satisfied, she walks back to the kitchen with you and Youji following her right behind.

As you expected, your mother's cooking is delicious. She's always so happy whenever she makes it home by dinner she puts her very best skills at work, and it makes both you and her happy when dinner is this good.  
You're silent most of the time, enjoying the little talk between your mother and Youji. He's a pretty quiet guy, but he breaks out of his comfort zone to be polite and you can't help but be fascinated by this side of him.

A loud thunder breaks the repetitive sound of rain, and your mother freezes in place. - Oh Youji, the station's a bit of a walk from here. With your bag and all, you don't even own a jacket...-. She looked down at her bowl, you fly Youji a gaze and he does the same with you, his cheeks tinted in a pale shade of red. - Darling, do you have someone to come pick you up? I would drive you home, but my husband needed the car today.-. She sounds really concerned, and Youji's face also looked worrisome. - ... No, I live alone.-. You feel a slight sense of surprise at his words. You aren't sure he's able to take care of himself too well- your mind flashes back to his lunch always tucked away in the trash at school, and you hang your head in a grave way.  
\- Oh!-, your mother's expression lightened suddenly. - Then what do you think about staying tonight? It really could be dangerous going outside now.-. A second, louder thunder echoes in the room, proving her statement right. Youji looks down at his knees with a complicated expression on his face, and your mother smiles calmly. - Please, I'll be extremely glad to have you here.-. - ... You're extremely kind. I would hate to be a bother.-, - Oh, but you're really not! You can stay in the guest room if you'd li-. - There's plenty of room for him in my room.-, you interrupt her.  
Both her and Youji turn simultaneously towards you, with a silent surprise on their faces. - ... Dad might want to stay up a while in the guest room if he comes home late.-, you add, to break the awkward tension that fell on the table. - You're right Tetsuo, you're right...-, your mother mumbles. - Is it okay if I prepare a futon in Tetsuo's room, Youji?-. Youji slightly nods, a barely visible smile on his lips, and your mother smiles back happily. - I'll be on it. Tetsuo, would you mind doing the dishes?-, - Not at all.-, you reply. You stand up in a quiet state of embarrassment, and Youji follows your mother to help her. 

After a while, you're almost done with your dishes when your mum walkes in the kitchen, alone. You exchange a meaningful look, and she lets out a small laugh. - Oh, Tetsuo...-. She holds you tenderly, and you rest your chin upon her head. She's much shorter than you, and it makes you smile in a way, because she has hugged you since you barely reached the height of her chest and now she's resting peacefully against your stomach. - Boy, boy... You're far gone.-, she chuckles, and you crack a smile. - I know, mum.-.

You walk back to your bedroom a while later, your sleeping shirt loose around your waist. Youji's sitting with his legs crossed on the futon your mother prepared for him, one hand loose between his thighs and the other holding his cellphone. He's talking softly with someone, you surmise it's his sister, since he talks about her often as the only person in his family. He notices your presence and hangs up, resting his phone in his loose open hand. - Your sister?-, you ask. - ... Yeah.-, he replies shortly after. You look at him in the dark, the pouring of rain filling the silence. His pale skin blends gracefully with the white sheets around him, his hair so dark it melts together with the pitch black air. You take a step towards him, he looks up at you with curious eyes and follows you until you're standing in front of him. You kneel down slowly as he lays down on his back, his eyes looking for yours, but you're looking at his mouth and the gentle gap between his lips, captivated by his every breath.  
You hover over him, your palms open beside his face, and look at him in his beautiful shakiness. You hesitantly press a small kiss on the corner of his mouth, it's a soft spot that you never payed much mind to until now. His eyes mixed with feelings, you kiss him again, you feel the soft, ticklish feeling of his eyelashes against your cheeks. He reclutantly runs his hands up your arms, sneaking his fingers under your shirt sleeves, his cold skin making you shiver. Your lips run down his chin to his neck, you can't be aggressive with him so you limit to stamp a few kisses to mark your path down to his collarbone. His tender scent fills you all the way to the back of your head, and you rest your cheek against his as you listen to his breath.

You stay in silence, because you don't really need to say anything when you're together. It all comes so easily.

\- ... My pills.-, he mumbles at some point. You raise your head a little and look at him. - My sleeping pills... They're at home.-, he continues, and you crack a smile. - You're half asleep already.-. He shakes his head slowly, his eyes swollen with sleep. You get the dark hair on his forehead out of the way gently with your hand, and kiss his temples. He lets out a sound sigh, and you wrap your arms around him, his nose against the gap between your collarbones. 

\- I'll hold you until you sleep.-, you whisper in his hair. - ... Will you leave if I fall asleep?-, he asks, a childish concern in his voice. - ... No.-, you answer quietly. His shoulders dropping loosely, he presses his palms against your back, his skin cold. With one hand, you pull up the blankets to cover him, and hold him closer.

You would tell him what you feel now, but there would be no use. Just by looking at him, you know he knows. You know he feels the same.

Because his eyes trust no one, but you know they trust you.


End file.
